


Bullshit King

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Canon Queer Character, Canon Trans Character, Coitus Interruptus, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 13:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Didn't know you had <i>family</i> over, Felix."</p><p>--</p><p>Tony pays Felix a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullshit King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kerithwyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/gifts).



Felix's face appears in the gap of his sliding door, saying "Yeah?" before recognition kicks in. Tony finds the change in expression pretty fucking endearing, as Felix sees him, looks him over, and sees the six pack in his hand. "Well, by all means."

The door slides open just enough for Tony to squeeze past Felix… and okay, maybe he presses unnecessarily close. Felix doesn't back off, either. Which is good. Very good. Especially dressed as Felix is in loose cotton pants and a dressing gown drawn modestly closed over his chest. 

"You don't call, you don't write… what brings you to my humble abode, Tony Sawicki?"

"Making a run through town. Figured I owed you a beer or two." Tony takes stock of the loft, walking a quick circle around the sofa where it's clear Felix has been lounging. He eyes the bed. "Unless this is a bad time…" The lump in the bed doesn't move, but is distinctly human-shaped. 

"No, no. You've actually arrived at a relatively low-traffic hour. A little beer and conversation shouldn't bother Sleeping Beauty."

Perfect. Tony drops to the sofa, setting the beers on the coffee table and kicking his feet up. "Kiss any more of your sister's clones since I was here?"

Felix rolls his eyes, but smiles. "God, no. Believe it or not, I actually try to avoid all that. And they're not so much my type."

"Lucky me, then." Tony means it. Pats the space next to him. "So you missed me?"

Felix's laugh, for once, is easy. He sits next to Tony and drops a hand to Tony's knee and deadpans, "More than words can say," before reaching for a beer of his own. "Though, truly, Tony, I'd say you're better off as far from this little band of troublemakers as possible. Especially if you value a life expectancy past thirty." Felix takes a swig and relaxes a little on the swallow, his body settling against the cushions.

"Aging is overrated." There's… concern, sure. Relief that Felix is here to open the door in the first place. Desire that's tied up in all of that, and desire that's got nothing to do with it. He makes a gesture, reaching out slowly to swipe a droplet of moisture from Felix's lower lip, catching the tip of his thumb in his own mouth and sucking. "Better to embrace the life you've got." He's never been under any illusion that this life is safe and easy.

"If that hadn't come from my sister's mouth, I'd think it was a proposition."

"Ain't nobody's mouth but mine."

He's considering it, Felix's eyes flashing between Tony's mouth, eyes, then quick, chest, crotch. Mouth. "Fuck me," Felix concludes with a sigh, shrugs, and leans in.

Tony's never had to be told twice.

*

The sound of Felix's moan is distorted and echoed in the form of an abrupt cough from across the large, open room. "Shit," Felix hisses, jerking away from Tony's mouth in reflex. 

"No," the voice is rough, but familiar. "Don't-- you don't have to stop."

Tony looks up, smiling, asking permission with his eyes. Hasn't played for an audience in a while, and wouldn't necessarily mind doing so now. A friend of Felix's is a friend of his, why not. But the slightly horrified expression on Felix's face suggests that he's not exactly amenable to that plan. Tony sits back, wipes his mouth, covers Felix's exposed erection with his dressing gown -- smooths the fabric over the slick skin. Pats gently. Elicits a groan. "Should we have introductions then, Guestus Interruptus?"

"Sorry, Fe," the figure in Felix's bed sighs, and that's it-- that's where Tony knows the voice. 

He barks out a laugh. "Didn't know you had _family_ over, Felix." Tony crosses the room quickly, before Felix can protest, an unopened beer dangling loosely from his right hand. "Tony Sawicki," he says, and offers the beer to the shifting lump under Felix's covers. Silk. Nice. A head appears and turns to face him -- long dreadlocks, squinting eyes, elaborate eye make-up a little smeared. 

"I'm -- what do you mean by family?" She shoots a look across the room -- Tony imagines this is intended to be something threatening, possibly directed at Felix, but his back is turned, and Tony finds that the squinting frown falls on the adorable side of frightening. She takes the beer -- can see that well, at least, and coughs again as she has to reach to the floor and swipe around to retrieve her glasses. Puts them on. Blinks. Grins. "Holy shit."

"Tony," Felix clears his throat, awkwardness palpable, even from across the room. "Meet Cosima, your sister."

Tony recognizes his own wolfish grin echoed in Cosima's expression. "As much my sister as she is yours, Dawkins." He crouches next to the bed, catches her free hand and kisses it. "And that is, not in any of the ways that count."

"You're--"

"A Leda boy," Felix answers, at the same time as Tony cuts in, "Giving Felix head."

Cosima gets up, a sudden whirlwind of knitted layers emerging from beneath the duvet. She pushes her glasses more firmly to the ridge of her nose and opens her mouth, "First of all, oh my god, and second," she opens her beer and takes a long swallow, "I'm super sorry for interrupting. Like, way to repay Fe for his hospitality, man. How long have you --" she starts, stops, thinks, starts again, "Where are you from?"

Her unbridled curiosity makes Tony smile despite himself. "Whoa, sister. Didn't know I'd be getting the third degree today. I woulda dressed nicer."

"You didn't dress up for me?" Felix asks, having composed himself and joins the two of them by the bed. "I thought this was your fancy flannel." He's in impressively good humor for someone who hasn't got to cum. 

"Okay, but the science involved." Cosima shifts excitedly. "You're on testosterone, yeah? Oh my god, is it totally rude to ask about like, doses?" She barrels on, not waiting for an answer. "And you're… I don't want to label you without your permission, but this is, so, so exciting, and I have this theory--" 

It's charming. So instead of complaining, Tony kisses her, leaning forward while simultaneously pressing his body back against Felix. Cosima tastes like smoke and sleep, and kisses back as well and as enthusiastically as someone with Tony's DNA should be expected to. Maybe it's weird. It certainly _should_ be weird. But _life's_ weird, and Tony stopped questioning that years ago. "Stop thinking. Answers aren't always quantifiable, anyway." Felix makes a small frustrated sound, grabs the back of Tony's shirt in his fist. He isn't as composed as Tony thought. Stop thinking. He's good at taking his own advice.

"Whoa, whoa," she's grinning. "Give a girl a second to process. I'm still caught up on you _existing_ , let alone being--" Her hands are up and stretched like fireworks. "My mind is blown. Like, _so blown_. But in a good way. The _best_ way, even? Jesus, I was just _sleeping_ , and shit. If you wanted me to give you privacy there's like, _no way_ I'm out now. I think every cell in my body is awake."

The word dump must have a soothing effect on Felix, because instead of holding back, he's breathing against Tony's neck, pressed close. And it's not that Tony wants to be rude, but Felix's mouth is… persuasive. 

Cosima's ramble halts at the visual clue of a turned back, and she laughs. "But science can wait til Fe's had an orgasm or two."

"Christ, Cosima," Felix groans. "Watch your mouth."

"I can watch yours first. I mean, I'm like, 300 percent okay with that."

Tony kisses Felix deeply, one hand cradling his head, the other tugging at his waist. "What'dya think, Dawkins? There's more than enough Tony to go around."

"Well, maybe for science."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Andrew for the critique, Sam for the cheerleading, and Liz for making the appropriate noises in the appropriate places.


End file.
